Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Sebastian knew a dozen languages and could speak them fluently, plus he had an aptitude for numbers that Gianfrancesco did not. ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father.
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